


Consume

by goblinsandgold



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinsandgold/pseuds/goblinsandgold
Summary: “Will,” Hannibal murmured. “Open your eyes.”He did, and reality came rushing back—a thing that seemed to crawl further and further away the longer the whole of him kept trying to crawl right into Hannibal.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 25





	Consume

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Christmas present to my friend Midni, who wanted hannigram, cold air, a hot bath, and the line "I'll take care of you from now on."

“Will?”

He didn’t dare open his eyes. The illusion had been built with careful detail, and it would carry him to safety or death, whichever came first. It differed from the one Will lived in during his stay at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane—there, sight had been just as important as the rest of his senses. He’d constructed the way the arc of river water over rock caught the sunlight with painstaking detail, lovingly painted every subtle variant of green into the leaves—but here in the cold sea, sight was a threat. One look and he would remember the ice, and the chill would seep back into his bones. If it was death the waves carried him to, he didn’t want those final moments with Hannibal to be frozen.

His name was uttered again, softly admonishing. The barest whisper of water parting reached his ears, but he kept his eyes resolutely closed until he felt fingertips brush his chest.

“Will,” Hannibal murmured. “Open your eyes.”

He did, and reality came rushing back—a thing that seemed to crawl further and further away the longer the whole of him kept trying to crawl right into Hannibal. His world was in the face of God, terrible and beautiful, and it was smiling with sharp teeth from Hannibal’s eyes.

Will arched out of the water, hot water—steam curled around his body as he was pulled into his monster’s orbit. He gasped, hands scrabbling at the wet-slick rim of the clawfoot tub. Not the ocean, not the icy cold that had taken them both when they’d fallen from the cliff—that was weeks ago, hundreds of miles behind them after Hannibal somehow dragged them deep into the woods and to a cabin he’d bought years ago, off the grid and well-hidden, just for emergencies.

“You let the fire die,” Will accused breathlessly.

Hannibal gave one of his tiny smiles, the one that curled like a satisfied cat in the corner. “I did,” he said, smugly, which meant he’d done it on purpose and Will couldn’t even hate him for it anymore. Not when he’d chosen this. Hannibal brought up a hand and stroked his knuckles over Will’s skin, spreading heat from cheekbone to jawline. “Do you forgive me?”

Will huffed a laugh through his nose, and settled back in the water, gazing at Hannibal through half-closed lids. The air in the cabin was still cold—he could see it in the way Hannibal’s breath fogged from between his lips, curling in the air like cigarette smoke. Feel it everywhere Hannibal’s fingers weren’t touching his face. He wanted to sink under the water and hold himself there until the world went dark, wondered how long Hannibal would watch him, admire him, before he pulled Will to…

Well. Not safety. Or maybe it was, now that Will had given in to it.

“I forgive you,” Will said, amusement still warm in his voice.

It had become a sort of game between them, in the last few weeks. A twisted sort of assurance that yes, Will still loved him. Will loved him when he was gentle, as he had been in the first few days, carefully sewing up wounds and soothing fingertips over Will’s eyes and lips, his collarbone, tracing him like he meant to memorize every line and curve. Will loved him when he was vicious, when he ripped the stitches and tore until Will bled, and kissed him after, rough at first, then slower, softer, Will absorbing his violence and folding it all safely in his own darkness.

There wasn’t anything Will wouldn’t give him now. His blood, flesh, semen, whatever Hannibal wanted, Will would pour it into him. If he could, he’d rip out his own soul and force Hannibal to swallow it.

Hannibal’s fingers danced down Will’s throat, pressing briefly before tracing over his collarbone and down, down to his heart. He pressed all five fingertips there and pushed with such force that, if Will hadn’t already had his back against the tub, he would have tried on instinct to lean away. Since he was trapped, it was easier to relax into it. He imagined Hannibal’s fingers growing sharp and sinking inside, wrapping tight around the organ that didn’t really belong to Will anymore.

“Do you want that?” Will asked quietly.

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed. He pressed in harder and Will gasped and arched into it, heart thumping like it could break right through his ribs.

“I would paint you with your own blood,” Hannibal said, far too calmly for how wild his eyes were. “And place your heart in your cupped hands, outstretched in offering.”

“To you,” Will finished, smiling, and Hannibal gave a single nod.

“If you ever decide to consume me,” Will continued, “I’d like it to be that way.”

Hannibal’s pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared as he leaned in close to deeply breathe in Will’s scent. His hand flattened against Will’s heart.

“There is a way I could consume you,” Hannibal said, and Will shuddered at the way his tongue curled around ‘consume.’ “And still keep you.”

The weak bathroom light glinted off a small blade Hannibal produced with his free hand. He held it there over the tub, his eyes locked with Will’s.

The water parted with a murmur as Will lifted his hand and took the blade. The air was chilly on his wet skin, but it was getting warmer—Hannibal must have relit the fire.

“Next time,” Will said, bringing the blade to the meat of his bicep. “I want painkillers.”

He was almost certain he heard Hannibal whisper, “Anything,” but it was lost under a sickening rush of pain as Will dug into his own flesh. The blade was incredibly sharp, making it disturbingly easy for Will to take off a little strip like a slice of fruit. The end result was perhaps an inch long, barely the width of two of his fingers and less than half as thick, but it still throbbed like a heartbeat, pumping bright hot agony into his veins. Or out of them, more like—there was blood sliding down his elbow and dripping into the water, beautiful, crimson drops that seemed to hold their shape for just an instant before dispersing into a soft pink.

“Will,” Hannibal breathed. He was leaning over the tub now, one hand still braced over Will’s pounding heart. His eyes were demon-dark and his lips were parted, eager though he tried to hold himself back.

Shaking, Will held out the offering, and when Hannibal opened his mouth, Will placed it carefully on his tongue. His fingertips lingered, rubbing over Hannibal’s teeth and smearing blood over his bottom lip before he finally withdrew so Hannibal could close his mouth—though he didn’t move after. He just held Will there, the hard press of his hand to Will’s chest and the black of his eyes the only indicators that he wasn’t perfectly in control of himself.

“Go on,” Will encouraged, and despite the pain he found himself breathless.

Hannibal’s fingers curled against Will’s chest and, finally, he swallowed.

“ _Hannibal_.” Will surged forward, fighting the pressure until Hannibal moved his hand aside. Will licked the blood from Hannibal’s lip, then curled in to take it from his mouth, shaking with the knowledge that a part of Will was inside him. The knife plopped into the water and blood continued to pour freely down his arm, it hurt so much and it was so good Will’s toes curled.

The illusion of control had snapped and Hannibal was frantic, hands rushing up and down Will’s back, into his hair, cupping his neck. He ripped their mouths apart only to kiss down Will’s jawline and bite harshly at his throat, just shy of breaking skin, and Will shook in his arms and arched into it, offering.

It took him an unreasonable amount of time to realize the low purrs of sound breaching the muzzy heat in Will’s mind were words. Still longer for him to focus on them, to make them something more than pleasing, animal noises.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Hannibal was promising, right in his ear now, between nips to his lobe and the sensitive skin just below it. “From now on, no one else will touch you. No one else will love you. I will devour anyone who dares lay eyes on you.”

Though it wasn’t a word, Will knew without a doubt that Hannibal understood the desperate cry wrenched from Will’s throat was a wild and definitive _yes._

END


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